Ogden's Old Firewhisky
by Pasht
Summary: The marauders have a bit too much Firewhisky, and their adventures have unexpected long-term consequences.
1. Ogden's Old Firewhisky

A/N: This little oneshot is a result of boredom. To relieve said boredom, I decided to challenge myself by answering... dun dun dun duuuun, a challenge! This is my first time writing a Harry Potter fanfiction (I've broadened my horizons from writing only Zelda stories!), though I've been reading them for quite some time now. Read, review, let me know what you think. If this story goes over well, I may write more Harry Potter fanfiction.

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all the Harry Potter characters. I own the plot of this oneshot. But author fork-tofu-pingpong-fish gets the credit for the challenge.

Challenge 

Story must have:  
- L/J (Lily/James) or something in the marauder era  
- A game of Simon Says  
- Firewhisky  
- Sirius singing "I'm A Little Teapot" in front of the whole school.  
- At least two of these quotes:  
1) "James, for the last time, dressing up as a belly dancer and giving Professor McGonagall a lap dance is not going to get you out of detention."  
2) "Sirius, get down from the staff table. I said get down! Don't you remember what happened last time? I still have nightmares!"  
3) "MARAUDERS! WHY DID YOU DO THAT? WHY, IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS MAGICAL, DID YOU TRY TO MIGRATE MONKEYS?"  
4) "Remus? What's that poking out of your pocket? Oh my! It can't be real. Remus Lupin walking round with a…"  
5) "Lily? What are you doing? No, Lily, put down the telescope. Please! Stop, just stop! Nooooooo! Someone save me!"

**NOTE**: Seeing as there are no symbols that will work for scene breaks, I have decided to use this: HPHPHP

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Ogden's Old Firewhisky

None of them were exactly sure how Peter managed to get a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. After all, it was _Peter_. Peter himself couldn't seem to remember. It wasn't until after they'd drank half the bottle that it was suggested that the alcohol may have come from the Slytherins. And by that point it was too late, as Sirius had already subjected himself to the embarrassment of singing _I'm a little teapot_ half naked in the middle of an Entrance Hall crowded with students on their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

That little episode had been a result of a game of Simon-Says-Turned-Truth-Or-Dare. Only without the 'truth' part.

About an hour into the game (and about ten minutes after Sirius' failed attempt at a singing career) Peter decided to send them all to dinner; "Simon says everyone go to the Great Hall for dinner!"

It was around the time Remus decided to crawl onto the table and take a nap in the chocolate pudding that the suggestion of the Firewhisky having come from the Slytherins came up. They hadn't had enough alcohol for the effect to not have at least _started_ to wear off, and yet here they were, unsuccessfully trying to drag Remus off the table without joining him due to the room suddenly deciding to imitate a merry-go-round. Thankfully no one seemed to notice there was anything unusual about their behavior, though as James later commented, it didn't say much for their behavior when they were sober.

When James and Peter finally managed to haul Remus through the portrait hole (Sirius had run ahead of them singing a tuneless song about migrating monkeys), they came face-to-face with a very disapproving Lily.

"Really! What were you thinking, getting drunk? Not only is it _completely_ against the rules, but you could have lost us house points! Again! Besides that, your behavior is disgusting!"

_Ah,_ thought James,_ so someone DID notice we were acting odd_.

"I wasn't the only one!"

"Did I say that out loud?" James slurred wonderingly, though Lily was still talking and he didn't receive a response.

"Most of Gryffindor noticed! And many of the Slytherins as well, if their laughs were anything to go by." And that right there confirmed that, yes, the Slytherins probably _had_ done something to the Firewhisky, and then given it to Peter. And they had obviously cast a memory charm on him as well, so that he wouldn't remember. Though, come to think of it, Peter _was_ naturally forgetful. And trusting. Perhaps they hadn't cast a memory charm then.

So distracted was he by this rather difficult reasoning process, and by the way the firelight lit Lily's red hair and made it appear as though it dancing, that James completely forgot he was still supporting Remus. A loud thump made him look down.

"Oh, Moony, mate, how did you get there?" he asked in surprise. His only response was a loud snore. "Oh, I see," he said, as though his friend had actually responded. "Well, if you're comfortable on the floor, then I'll just be making my way up those steps there. C'mon feet. I mean Pete."

"Potter!"

"Yes, Lily lovely… er, livly Lolly… pretty flower?" Lily rolled her eyes and James copied her. And then grabbed the back of a nearby chair because it made him dizzy.

"Professor McGonagall asked me to remind you that you have detention tonight."

"Oh." He stared at Lily, who frowned at his lack of response. "I… I suppose that means I should go?" The redhead made a sound somewhere between a scream and a groan, and stomped angrily past them and out of the portrait hole. "Silly flower, making such odd noises."

"She isn't a real flower Prongs," Peter told James patiently. Peter who, strangely enough, seemed to become rather intelligent and wise under the influence of alcohol – quite the opposite of the rest of the marauders. "You'd better go to detention. Do you have a Sober-Up potion in our dorm somewhere?"

James shrugged helplessly and stumbled up the stairs. Peter dragged Remus over to the sofa in the common room, and with the help of a couple of handy first years, they managed to get him onto said sofa, where at least he wouldn't wake up with sore muscles from sleeping on the cold floor. Nothing could be said for his head though.

James had commented that Peter seemed to be unusually smart as a drunk. Truthfully, it was simply that James was unusually stupid and Peter was merely unusually calm. And as such, he was calm enough to think rationally, albeit rather slowly. Had he been sober, he probably would have been running up the stairs to make sure James and Sirius (assuming that's where Sirius was – they hadn't seen him since the second floor) were alright.

As it was, he was currently waiting for Lily to come back from sobbing on the Fat Lady in frustration. He realized that if James or Sirius were to do anything exceedingly dumb in their current Firewhisky-induced state, he may need the help of someone sober to stop them. And Lily's temper was enough to get anyone to listen – even if it was only long enough to cast a stunner.

**HPHPHP**

The scene in the boys' dormitory when she entered with Peter ten minutes later was something she'd never forget. Sirius was wearing a sheet – and only a sheet – as a toga, and standing on top of Remus' bed, reciting what seemed to be the Pureblood's Code of Ethics, but she couldn't be sure because he was injecting expletives between every other word. He may not have been able to correctly remember each criterion, but she had to give him points for creativity. Seeing as Sirius was currently not harming anyone, nor in any harm, she turned to James, only to have her mouth fall open in shock.

He was dressed in what could only be described as a belly dancer's costume. Or as close to it as he could get with only boy's clothing and robes to work from.

"James! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" she gasped. His mumbled reply only made her eyes widen further in horror. It didn't faze Peter however.

"We've discussed this before James, the last time you were drunk I believe. And we concluded that it was entirely too inappropriate, McGonagall was much too stubborn to change her mind, and that you don't look at all attractive in those clothes." James looked down at himself, pouted, and muttered something that included the words 'abs' and 'sexy'. Lily turned her horrified gaze to Peter, who was watching Sirius make faces at himself in the mirror, which was in turn rating each one on a scale from one to ten.

As James moved to go past them out the door, Peter finally turned his attention away from Sirius (who was trying to touch his nose with his tongue, while the mirror cheered him on) and focused on the other marauder.

"James, for the last time, dressing up as a belly dancer and giving Professor McGonagall a lap dance is not going to get you out of detention." Either Peter's commanding tone of voice shocked James into obedience, or he had decided to listen to reason, because he stopped trying to get past Lily, and allowed her to lead him to the bed.

"Peter, you get James out of those ridiculous clothes. I'll go inform Professor McGonagall that's he's not feeling well, and get a sleep-inducing potion while I'm at it." Peter slowly moved forward to follow her directions and Lily firmly shut the door on her way out.

**HPHPHP**

James woke up from what had been a very strange dream. As he climbed out of bed, he noticed that his pajamas were on backwards. Frowning, he looked around the dormitory. Peter's snores sounded from behind the red curtains around his bed, which was normal. It was the rest of his roommates that began to make James very suspicious about the dream he'd had. Remus was missing, his bed not even slept in. Sirius' sheets were draped from one of the bed posts, and it was very obvious that he wasn't wearing anything besides his boxers, if he was wearing boxers at all.

And sitting innocently on top of Peter's trunk was a bottle of Firewhisky. James' happy bubble of obliviousness popped and the realization that the dream was _not_ actually a dream came crashing down on top of him.

His knees felt weak, and had he not been so utterly masculine he might've fainted. That thought only served to remind him how _un_-masculine he'd been the night before. Where had he ever gotten the idea that giving McGonagall a lap dance while dressed as a belly dancer would get him out of detention?

_Oh, that's right. Sirius._ And where had gotten the nerve to act on the ridiculous idea? _Peter. Firewhisky. Slytherins._

And to top that all off, it was one thing completely to act like a fool in front of one's mates. It was quite another to do so in front of the girl one fancied. James groaned audibly. Audibly enough to wake Sirius who yelped in surprise and tumbled out of bed – stark naked.

**HPHPHP**

James was currently hiding behind his goblet of pumpkin juice, looking around for any sign of Lily, who'd yet to show up for breakfast.

"Don't worry mate, I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Sirius tried to console him. They had tested the Firewhisky and had discovered that yes, it had indeed been cursed. Firstly with a spell that encouraged anyone within a two foot radius to drink it, and secondly with a spell to make the effect of the alcohol last longer.

"Yes, well, compared to you perhaps," James replied darkly, then whimpered and sunk lower in his seat as Lily appeared at the door to the Great Hall.

And she was carrying a rather rusty looking telescope. How odd.

At James's whimper the other marauders had followed his line of vision to the redhead approaching them.

"Oh dear," Peter murmured.

"Oh dear what?" Remus asked, holding the cold jug of pumpkin juice against his forehead in an attempt to dispel his headache.

"Well, it's just… she has a telescope." He kept glancing fearfully between Lily and James, making the latter very worried.

"_So?_" James finally demanded when Lily was less than ten feet away and her malicious smile was dreadfully apparent.

"You see… last night, when you and Padfoot were acting so… drunk," Peter began, then hesitated, tugging nervously on his blond hair. James narrowed his eyes.

"_Yes?_"

"Well, I needed her help. But she said she's only agree to help if I promised that she could-" But he was interrupted before James could hear what exactly it was that Peter had promised Lily.

"Hello Potter." Peter shrugged helplessly and gave him an apologetic look.

"Uh, hello Lily. My, how lovely you look today. Say! I don't suppose…" James trailed off as Lily raised the telescope, her smile widening. "Lily? What are you doing? No, Lily, put down the telescope. Please! Stop, just stop! Noooooo! Someone save me!"

The three remaining marauders watched sympathetically as Lily chased James from the Great Hall, brandishing the telescope threateningly.

FIN


	2. Red Currant Rum

A/N: I was asked to produce a sequal to Ogden's Old Firewhisky. This is the result. It was originally posted on its own as a oneshot, but I've re-vamped it and decided to put it here as a second chapter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all relating characters are owned by J. K. Rowling.

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**Red Currant Rum**

"Do you remember that time the Slytherins charmed our alcohol?" Fred and George, who had been passing the kitchen doorway of Grimmauld Place froze at the sound of Sirius Black's voice speaking the words 'Slytherin' and 'alcohol' in the same sentence.

"Vaguely. I think I passed out," Remus replied.

"Yes. You fell asleep in the gravy. Or was it pudding?"

"Pudding. Chocolate pudding. I woke up with chocolate in my hair."

"You know what we never figured out? What charm the Slytherins used to compel us to drink that alcohol."

"Not that you or James ever needed much persuasion to drink alcohol."

"That's true."

"What I've never figured out is why there weren't more charms on the Firewhisky. You know, like something to turn our skin different colors. That sort of thing."

"Or poison."

"Don't be ridiculous. Slytherins aren't _that_ malicious. Maybe they were trying to be subtle?"

"Or they're just stupid."

"One of the Head Boys was Slytherin when we were there. They aren't _all_ stupid."

"Moony, you're too nice for your own good. Slytherins are either stupid, evil, or both."

"So you say."

"I do indeed." Fred and George exchanged significant glances and crept up the creaky stairs as quietly as they could. Once in the bedroom, Fred shut the door and turned to his twin.

"Charmed alcohol? How come we never thought of that?"

"Because it's not usually necessary to charm alcohol. Teenagers are drawn to it like dementers to happiness," George pointed out reasonably. Fred made a face at the comparison.

"Yes, well. What do you say we charm some alcohol? Only, we'll add a little something extra to it." The twins shared a mischievous grin.

**HPHPHP**

Two days later found Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny dashing out the door to catch the train back to Hogwarts – all of them, expect maybe Hermione, wishing that the winter holidays had lasted just a few days more.

"Where did you put the rum, Fred?" George asked, less than an hour after the younger teens had departed.

"I hid it with the potion bottles in the study. Why?"

"Because the potion bottles aren't there. And neither is the alcohol." Fred looked confused for a moment before realization dawned and he gave his twin a horrified look.

"Bugger. George, do you realize who those potion bottles belong to?"

"Snape?"

"No. Hermione."

**HPHPHP**

"What's this?" Hermione murmured as she pulled an unfamiliar potion bottle out of her trunk. She shrugged and moved as though to set it down next to her trunk.

She frowned in confusion a moment later when she realized that she'd instead uncorked it and was raising it to her lips. She sniffed the contents.

A strong spice scent hit her noise and Hermione detected a slightly fruity untone, with the faintest hint of molasses. Had she been in her right mind (rather than under the influence of the handiwork of a pair of mischievous twins), Hermione would never have done what she did next – which was to take a tentative sip of the unknown liquid.

But she was not in her right mind – especially fifteen minutes later – and it wasn't long after she stumbled into the Common Room that the compulsion spell the twins had cast on the bottle latched onto someone else.

"Hermione?" Harry asked uncertainly, when his friend literally tripped into the Common Room looking suspiciously flushed and giddy.

"Harry! Harry, you must try this," she told him earnestly and thrust a potion bottle under his noise. Harry recognized the smell of rum immediately, but that wasn't enough to stop him from doing as she'd asked.

**HPHPHP**

_Dear Ron,_

_We think Hermione may have accidentally taken one of our, shall we say, untested products. We recommend you remove it from her possession immediately as we don't know what the side effects might be._

_Whatever you do, resist any temptation to drink it. We would very much like to get at least some of it back._

_Cheers,_

_Gred and Forge_

**HPHPHP**

"Harry? Hermione?" Ron asked, entering the Common Room.

"Not here," Seamus told him absently from his chair by the fire. Ron frowned, and retreated back to the boys' dormitory to retrieve the Marauder's Map.

Ron was surprised to see that the little dots that represented his friends were meandering in circles in the corridors of the Second Floor.

**HPHPHP**

"What do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor, earl-eye in the morning?!" Harry's off-key singing echoed from the walls as he and Hermione stumbled past the library. The portraits followed their zigzagging route with expressions of annoyance and disgust, their constant shushing only making the inebriated teens louder.

"Harry! Hermione!" the sudden voice startled the pair and they tripped over each other to land in tangled heap on the floor, giggling madly. "Good gods, are you two _drunk_?"

"Hi Ron!" Harry slurred, waving excitedly at his friend. "Have you come to join us?"

"We're off to see the Wizard!" Hermione's muffled voice added from beneath Harry.

"What wizard?" Ron demanded as he yanked Harry off the girl, barely keeping him upright as the bespectacled boy swayed unsteadily.

"The Wizard of Oz!" Hermione lay on the floor before the boys with a silly grin on her face. "I've always wanted to meet the Wizard. He's _wonderful_." She threw hers arms out to the side to demonstrate how wonderful. Ron stared between his two friends, unsure of whether to be amused at their drunken state, or annoyed that they were drinking without him.

"Where did you get alcohol?" he asked finally, deciding that despite his curiosity about this so-called Oz person, the situation at hand was more important.

"Hermione," Harry began slowly, as he was having trouble enunciating clearly, "found some really good rum."

"Sorry, did you say 'found'?"

"Yep!" Hermione joined the conversation, stumbling to her feet and throwing her arms around Ron. She put her mouth against his ear and whispered, "The house-elves put it in my trunk as a thank you present for starting S.P.E.W." Ron chuckled nervously and pushed the girl off him, holding her at arm's length and trying not to blush. Didn't she realize how attractive she looked with her alcohol-flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes? Ron cleared his throat.

"Right, well, I guess I should get you – wait, did you say you found it in your trunk?" Hermione nodded and tried to wrap her arms around the redhead again, murmuring something about him being warm. Ron gritted his teeth and resisted a groan – _she's drunk, she doesn't realize what she's doing_, he told himself firmly and once more pushed her off him. "Listen to me. That rum was one of Fred and George's untested products. Where is it?" Hermione pointed behind Ron to Harry, who was doodling little glowing pictures in the air with his wand. "Harry?"

"Look what I can do!" Harry giggled and added yellow glasses to what vaguely resembled a green butterfly. He was surrounded by the colorful floating images.

"Er, very nice. Harry, where's the rum?" Harry stopped drawing and gripped the pocket of his robe possessively.

"Dunno." Ron pointed to the suspicious pocket.

"You have it there. Hand it over."

"Nuh uh. S'mine," he protested, backing away. Ron had never been the most patient person (with the exception of chess, of course) and after a moment's consideration he lunged at Harry. He was immensely grateful his friend was so short as he unsuccessfully tried to grab back the bottle that Ron held out of reach.

He was even more grateful the bottle was empty when found himself trying to drink from it.

Ron shook his head, trying to clear it of the spell. _Temptation my arse_, he thought furiously. Bewitched alcohol! What were they thinking? He handed the empty bottle back to the seething Harry, who cradled it against him as though it were a precious treasure. Ron sighed.

"Come on. Let's get back to the Common Room before a professor spots us."

**HPHPHP**

The trip to the Common Room was both frustrating and exhausting. Harry sulked for a while about Ron's attempt at stealing his precious rum, though eventually he took to amusing himself with leaving a trail of multicolored pictures. Ron didn't have time to figure out how to erase them and could only hope that if they didn't fade by morning there would be no way to trace the pictures back to the three students.

Hermione, on the other hand, had finally noticed the whispering portraits and would frequently stop to tell them off for being rude. And when she wasn't trying to deduct house points from the paintings, she was chasing shadows – which at one point turned out to be Mrs. Norris and Ron was forced to drag his friends onto a moving staircase to escape.

By the time Ron was forced to carry a half-unconscious Hermione (draping her over his shoulder and trying ignore the very fine derriere that was now in very close proximity to his face), Harry had taken off ahead of them. Ron could only hope he had gone straight to Gryffindor and was not off wandering the castle somewhere.

Thankfully, they found Harry entertaining the Fat Lady not ten minutes later with (by this point unrecognizable) glowing doodles. He managed to kiss the portrait goodnight before Ron dragged him through the portrait hole.

**HPHPHP**

With a very vague explanation, Ron had Parvati and Ginny cart the unconscious Hermione upstairs to the girls' dormitories. Ginny grinned bemusedly at her brother until she was out of sight, while Parvati tutted and frowned disapprovingly at the girl who was suppose to be a model student.

With Hermione being taken care of, Ron turned to his best friend – who was about to stick his hand in the fire.

"Oi!" Ron yelped in alarm, jumping toward the dark-haired boy. Thankfully, the nearby Seamus (who had obviously not moved from his seat since Ron had left the room half an hour before) yanked Harry's arm backwards before he could hurt himself.

"You don't want to be touching that Harry." Harry blinked at him.

"Pretty."

"Yeah, the fire's pretty. Now let's get you upstairs." The Irish boy easily pulled his roommate to his feet and with an ease that spoke of previous experience dealing with drunk people, maneuvered him to the stairs, where Ron was waiting to help haul the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Was-Drunk up the stairs and to his bed.

**HPHPHP**

Harry was confused by two things upon waking the following morning. One was a monumental headache for which he could not think of any possible cause, and the second was the fact that the canopy of his bed seemed much closer than normal.

He quickly discovered the reason for the latter when he tried to get out of bed.

He was floating.

**HPHPHP**

The students of Hogwarts were confused by two things upon leaving their Common Rooms the first morning back to school after the winter holidays. One was the glowing doodles floating in the air in numerous corridors, and the second was the strange way Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were walking.

Those familiar with the muggle world compared it to astronauts walking on the moon.

Both Hermione Granger and Harry Potter discovered that morning that paper was not necessary for artistic expression, and heavy textbooks could be used as something other than just sources of information or boredom. They could, for example, be used to keep one from floating around like a balloon.

**HPHPHP**

Fred and George, unfortunately, did not get any of the alcohol returned to them. Fortunately, they were saved from Hermione's wrath by the unexpected side effect of neither accidental test subject remembering anything of that night after their first sip of the enhanced Red Currant Rum. (While Harry was later told of their drunken escapade, Hermione was kept in the dark about it for years after the incident.)

The Weasley twins – after the initial mishap – eventually produced a non-alcoholic beverage called _Head in the Clouds_, which simulated an alcoholic-buzz for a short period of time and caused the drinker to feel as though he were floating, without the unfortunate aftereffects of heavy drinking. It became one of their most successful products and when asked about what inspired the idea they were quoted as saying that they owed it all to a pair of trouble-finding canines.

Which lead the public to believe, inaccurately, that the twins owned a pair of disobedient dogs. The assumption was never corrected, and image of Remus and Sirius as pets became a running joke among those who knew the real story.


End file.
